Laboring in the obscurity he so richly deserves for over a decade now, your crusty correspondent sporadically offers his views on family, law, politics and money. Nothing herein should be taken too seriously: If you look closely, you can almost see the twinkle in Curmudgeon's eye. Or is that a cataract?

Tuesday, May 07, 2013

Olaf graduates -- finally -- and Curmudgeon must begin thinking about his next great acting job

Olaf finally got his degree Saturday. "I don't have the diploma yet," he'd say if he saw this -- but his name was in the program and he walked across the stage with everyone else.

Well... maybe more staggered than walked.

Younger Daughter thought it would be good to celebrate the night before the graduation ceremony.

When I heard she was planning a party, I asked her where she planned to hold the event. My real question, of course, was "if the party's at my house, am I invited?"

In the event, Younger Daughter had a couple of friends meet them at the house, then they repaired to a gin mill on the Near North Side where many others gathered. Ethanol was consumed in copious quantities.

Olaf gets up at 4:30 a.m. for work and, although he doesn't always work Fridays, last Friday he did have to go in.

So he was dog tired before they headed out. And Younger Daughter's not sleeping soundly these days because the Granddaughter To Be Named Later is cutting her two front teeth (gosh, I hope we don't have to wait until Christmas for them) so she was dog tired before they went out.

Well.

I don't know what time they got home (Long Suffering Spouse and I got the baby down and went to sleep ourselves) but I do know that Olaf was sick as a dog on Saturday morning. Younger Daughter was worse.

The plan had been for them to drive down as a family to the graduation -- there's a whole 'nother set of grandparents, you know, and they were looking forward to holding the baby while their son walked across the stage -- but this plan had to be abandoned because of the glacial pace at which the kids were able to move.

Eventually, though, Olaf went in his car, with the new baby seat so the family could head out to his parents for a celebratory barbecue. The old car seat was put into my van so I could take Younger Daughter and the baby if ever they got ready.

I was beginning to wonder if that contingency might not occur -- but, eventually, Younger Daughter rallied sufficiently. She and the baby were there when her husband's name was called. The other grandparents got their carrying time. Everyone looks fine in the pictures. The baby didn't complain about her teeth either.

Long Suffering Spouse and I had a sense of accomplishment as we ushered them out of the house, finally. Not because we got them moving when they were in such a state, of course, but because Olaf had finally -- despite all the obstacles that his health and his teachers combined to throw in his path -- completed his degree. And, Friday, before they went out, Olaf happened to mention that his boss did mention that salary discussions might soon be in order.

Once Olaf gets on salary they ought to be able to put together a security deposit on an apartment -- maybe even, if interest rates hold, a down payment on a house somewhere. They may actually move out someday.

And that's when I'll have to do the best acting job of my career. Long Suffering Spouse -- whatever she may say now -- will be tremendously sad when they go. I will have to pretend to be unreservedly happy. Only you here can know any different.